Tied With Love
by pullingbeckettspigtails
Summary: "Beckett finally broke their eye contact, moving her gaze around the room once more, "It's not the apartment I care about, it's what was in it."" After the explosion, Kate is left with no home and no belongings, until packages start arriving at the loft with the help of Rick. 2x18 post ep.
_'May no gift be too small to give, nor too simple to receive, which is wrapped in thoughtfulness and tied with love.'_

 _L. O. Baird_

* * *

"You okay?"

Kate's head snapped towards the passenger side of her police vehicle, seeing Rick's cerulean eyes wide with concern. Under his gaze, she loosened her tight grip on the steering wheel and took a deep breath.

"Fine." She replied sharply with a tight smile, then focused her gaze back on the lunch hour traffic.

She really should've known better than leaving the precinct in the middle of the day when she didn't need to, but as soon as she received the call from the fire department saying that her apartment was safe to enter, she needed to see what remained. (Though from the sombre tone of voice of the man talking to her, she assumed the worst).

Her mind cast back to last night: the deafening bang of the bomb exploding, the crack of her bones as she dove into the tub, the arms of her partner wrapped tight around her as she hobbled out of the wreckage. She can't remember what the environment around her had looked like, all she knew was it was singed black in almost every corner. A deep sigh left her chest at the memory.

"If you don't want me to come, you can drop me off outside or something."

Kate's head turned once more, this time slower, and the smile she gave was more genuine. Castle had been treating her with such gentle care the past few hours, giving her everything she needed: hot water bottles, endless amounts of coffee, multiple pillows, her favourite Thai take out, relaxing candles, his Mother's lavender bubble bar and more. She often forgot about this side to him, the one that came out when his daughter arrived at the precinct or when he comforted a victim's grieving family member. She had become so accustomed to their banter that his overly caring nature was a stark difference, though not an unwelcome one.

"You can come in, I might need help grabbing my things." _If there are any left,_ she thought, shaking her head to dispel it as soon as it came.

Castle returned a smile - emotions of relief, sadness, guilt and care all in one look. And with this they drove silently towards Beckett's apartment.

* * *

The two walked in hesitantly through the doorway – the knocked down door now absent – as they took in the sight.

Panels of burnt wood hung haphazardly, dust floated in the air, rubble coated the floorboards. And worst of all, there was no furniture to be seen.

Castle stood back for a moment as Beckett's eyes darted around the area wildly, her breaths shallow. She halted as she had her back to him, but he could see her tense shoulders almost touching her ears, her hands tightened into fists by her sides. Then came a shaky outward sigh.

He took slow strides towards her, avoiding stepping on the objects that littered the floor, and faced her. As quickly as she bowed her head from his sight, he still caught her eyes glittering and her teeth digging into her bottom lip.

"Hey," He whispered, as if trying not to startle her. She shook her downcast head in response. Castle placed a warm palm on her forearm, running his thumb gently over the leather of her black jacket. Hazel eyes finally looked up and met his, a stray tear running quickly down her cheek.

"Kate," He said in an even softer voice, but her head shook, a wisp of hair sticking to her tear stained cheek.

"It's the ash, I-" She spoke, though her throat seemed more clogged with emotion.

"I'd be like this too if my apartment looked like this." Castle reassured her.

Beckett finally broke their eye contact, moving her gaze around the room once more, "It's not the apartment I care about, it's what was in it." As Castle furrowed his eyebrows, she continued, "My high school yearbook, the programme from Les Mis when I went to go see it with my Mom, photos of family gatherings, the knitted rabbit my Aunt Teresa made me when I was born, everything. It's all gone."

Her voice cracked at the last word, and Castle immediately wrapped his arms around her shaking frame, hands splayed on her back as she clutched the lapels of his tan jacket, tears freely flowing.

"It's okay." Castle whispered into the shell of her ear, his mind racing with possibilities on how to make this right.

* * *

Behind his desk, Rick ran a hand through his hair nervously, gazing at the various boxes that littered the surface. He finished the glass of water beside him in one large gulp, slammed it back down, and then stood up quickly, walking out of his office and into the living area.

His anxiousness dissipated as he saw her. She was curled up on the corner of the sofa, holding one of the books he had given her when she'd admitted to him that she'd been having trouble falling asleep after her sixth night staying at the loft. Her hands were hidden by the long sleeves of his navy hoodie – which she still unashamedly wore most days, even though she'd gone shopping for her own clothes multiple times – and her feet were tucked in underneath her legs, letting him only see a hint of purple and white fluff of her cosy winter socks.

Ever the observant one, she immediately glanced up at him, using her slim finger to mark her page.

"Hey." She greeted with a relaxed grin as he approached her.

"Hi." He replied, rubbing his hands on his track pants nervously. Her gaze followed his hands then went back up to his face with an inquisitive look. "I have something for you. Well, multiple somethings."

Her head tilted slightly as a side of her mouth quirked up into a smile, "Okay?" She answered, folding down the page in the book – a sin which Rick tried to overlook – and stood up beside him. Wordlessly, he grasped her uninjured wrist gently and walked her towards his office, halting once they'd arrived at his desk.

Kate's eyes glanced over to his, and he nodded towards the multiple packages of varying colours and sizes, each with his address printed on the top.

"Go ahead."

Her eyebrows shot up, "They're for me? All of them?"

"That's what I said, isn't it?" He replied light-heartedly, grinning at the narrowing glare of her eyes towards him.

"Okay…" She said more to herself than him, walking around the desk to open the drawer and grasp a pair of scissors.

She opened the smallest box first, a thin rectangle. Inside was a dark navy book, with gold lettering embossed in it. Kate's eyes immediately widened in recognition.

"It's my school's yearbook." She said, picking it up carefully from the box.

"Stuyvesant High School, class of 1997." He declared proudly, "It's a loan from their school library, but you're welcome to scan the photos and save them for yourself. I was going to do it for you, but I wasn't sure if you'd appreciate me sneaking a peak at Rebel Becks."

Her smile widened as she sat down in his office chair and opened the first page, looking at a large photo of her entire year, a sea of uniforms and (mostly forced) smiles.

"No!"

Her head whipped up, "What?"

"You have all these others to open," He said, dramatically flinging his arm around the parcels, "You can sit down and cry about your awful hairstyles later."

She scoffed at his accusation, but nonetheless obeyed and grasped a light brown box. She chuckled as she tore open the flaps, reaching a hand in to grasp a white knitted rabbit, with a pink crochet dress and booties on its lower paws to match. Without realising, she sentimentally started stroking its right paw with her thumb, her eyes widening with childlike wonder.

"How did you get this?" She asked, never taking her eyes off of the toy.

"I found your Aunt Theresa through the wonder of Facebook, and when I told her what happened, she made this rabbit in less than 48 hours _and_ sent it through express mail," At this, Kate laughed loudly, "There should be more in that box too." Rick added quietly, though he didn't want to ruin the moment of reminiscing.

With infinite care, she placed the rabbit down in a seated position, propped up by the lamp on his desk, and plunged her hands into the cardboard box. Then out came a huge family photo album with rugged edges, the covers held together with two elastic bands as the large amount of photos threatened to burst them open.

"Oh my God," Kate gasped, "This is her's, I can't have this."

Rick chuckled, "She said you'd say that. And she assures you that you can have it. And if you refuse, you have to bring it personally to her as a consolation. And stay over for a weekend."

Kate laughed, swiping at her eye before tears could spill down, "That sounds like her."

Immediately forgetting Castle's reprimand at her opening her last present, she took off the bands and opened the book, greeted with two grainy photos of her Aunt and her Mother as toddlers, grinning from ear to ear and holding hands in a garden somewhere. Quickly flicking through, she found an incredible amount of photos from different events, her Mom and Dad's wedding, her cousin Sofia's birth, her own birth, her first day at school, her Christening-

"Wow, I never thought I'd see the first ever patented Beckett glare."

Beckett looked up at Castle who had migrated to standing over her shoulder then back at the photo of a seven year old her, dressed in a giant white dress, arms crossed and a scowl on her face directed at Jim, who was holding the camera.

She laughed through the tears she hadn't realised were falling, "I kept saying I looked like an ugly cupcake, but my Mom kept shushing me as my Nana had made the dress from scratch and was scared she'd be offended if she heard."

"Is there even such thing as an ugly cupcake?"

Another chuckle came from her, then she closed the album and pushed it to the side, not bothering to try again once it flipped open as soon as she let go of the front cover.

Next she reached for a thin white envelope, in which she found a grey booklet with the words _Les Misérables_ printed in bold black ink. Wordlessly, she looked over at him in wonder.

"I asked Mother, and she said that the first US tour of Les Mis was in 1987, and after a lot of searching online" _And a lot of money spent on an Ebay purchase,_ he thought silently, "I found it."

Kate scanned through the pages, reminiscing on how excited she was for her first theatre experience, how she felt in awe at the whole experience, how she held her sobbing Mom's hand on the journey back home.

"How did you even do all this in just over a week?" She asked him in awe.

Rick shrugged nonchalantly, "I still feel partly to blame for this whole mess," He began, holding up a hand when he saw Kate opening her mouth to oppose his statement, "It was the least I could do. I know they're not the same, and they definitely can't replace what you lost, but-" Another small shrug.

At his forlorn look, Kate stood up from the office chair and wrapped her arms around his neck tightly, "Don't play this down, Castle. This is the nicest thing anyone's ever done for me, and definitely the most effort someone's ever gone through for me. I can never thank you enough."

She pulled away from the hug slightly to rise to her tip-toes and press a lingering kiss on his cheek as her hands held onto the top of his shoulders. Given the dazed look plastered on his face, she spoke again, knowing it could be a while before he did.

"But how about I thank you by ordering Chinese for dinner tonight?"

Castle finally snapped out of his trance, placing his palms on her waist as she wobbled from still being on her toes, "Y-Yeah. Chinese. Great. Awesome."

With an almost inaudible chuckle, she placed a kiss on his other cheek – if only to see the deer-in-headlights look once more – and turned around, leaving the room in a manner that could only be described as bouncing.

* * *

Over the next few days, packages kept arriving at the loft. Photos of her school shenanigans from her old friend Maddie, certificates in guitar and dance that Jim had kept, more recent family photos from Sofia, Russian books from a friend she made when she stayed in Kiev, plaques from her Academy days gifted from the NYPD, various mugs and plates from a college friend who enjoyed pottery, and more.

Each night, the two would admire the gifts together, whether it was laughing at Kate's flared jeans and pink hair streaks, her attempting to teach him Russian, comparing baby photos or simply drinking coffee in her new mugs.

One night, she gives him a gift back, in the form of a kiss.

* * *

 **After an unintentional four month writing hiatus, I return! I'm not too comfortable with disclosing why I've been absent, other than around Christmas time, my mental health took a huge knock following family issues, then as Uni and work piled on, I didn't really have a chance to recover and instead hid myself away. But after opening up to friends, family and medical professionals, I'm starting to enjoy things again, including writing!**

 **Anyway, sentimental note over, thank you for reading! You're all wonderful :)**

 **Lou xo**


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